Forever for a Year(53)

“A roast beef sandwich.”

“Great.” My mom then drove us to a deli in Northbrook that we had never been to before. After we ordered at the counter, we waited in silence until they handed us my sandwich and two drinks, then we sat in a corner booth away from the windows. I didn’t want anyone seeing me having lunch with my mom. I don’t know why, I just didn’t.

“Are you ready?” my mom said, breathing in deep and laughing at the same time. She was so freaky!

“Just talk.”

“Carolina…” she began, then stopped.

“Yeah?” If she tells me to not date Carolina, I might never speak to her again.

“She’s great.”

“I know she’s great, Mom.”

“You’re speaking so coldly to me.”

“You’re being really strange!”

“I’m sorry. We don’t talk much. I’m bad at it. And I know you think I’m a pathetic person.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. It’s okay. I’d hate me too if I was you.”

“I don’t hate you.” Which was true. I just didn’t … trust her.

“Trevor … you’re getting older now. I can see it. You’re smart. Different smart than most kids. Like me. Like I was in high school—”

I wanted to say, I’m nothing like you, but now I didn’t want to say anything to her.

She continued, “So I feel like we can have more mature conversations. No one ever treated me like an adult when I was in high school, so I acted even more adult than I should have to prove I was an adult. Does that make sense?”

Not at all. But I just shrugged.

“Okay. Let me start over. Carolina … She loves you.”

“She likes me, she hasn’t said—”

“She loves you. I can see it. She is so in love with you, she can hardly function.”

“I love her, Mom! And I’m not going to stop!” Why was I yelling?

“I know. I know. I’m not saying you should. I’m saying let’s talk about what’s happening.”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“I know, Trevor. I meant, let’s talk about what’s happening emotionally and … sexually.”

Crapping f*cking crap, this was a “sex talk”? My mom is so goddamn awkward I want to punch myself in the face.

She continued, because I sure as hell wasn’t saying a word. “Trevor, your dad thinks you know better. He thinks when he says, ‘be careful,’ to you, that is all you need to hear so you’ll wait until you’re married to have sex.”

“We’re not having sex!” I yelled but in a whisper.

“Okay, okay. That’s good. It has only been a month. That’s good. But you’re not going to wait until you’re married either, are you?”

“Mom, crap. God, can we not talk about this?”

“Let me be more direct. You’re definitely not going to wait until you’re married. Your dad doesn’t really think you will either. I was making a point. He thinks you’ll wait until college like he did. But that was a different era, and he’s a different person. His parents were very religious and he grew up in a very poor neighborhood, so he had to do whatever he needed to do to get out. That meant not even thinking about girls until he got to college. Your dad is also different from you. He thinks because you are both boys that you’re the same, and that Lily is like me. But Lily is her father’s daughter. Very linear and measured. You and I are … creative … and passionate.…”

“Mom,” I started even though I didn’t have anything else to say. I just wanted her to stop. My brain was filling with anger and images too quickly for me to control. I had to stop eating. I felt nauseated. I was going to puke all over the table.

“I got a boyfriend my first month of freshman year too. His name was Mark. He was a senior. I thought I was so special. Too special for anyone my age. Plus Mark was the captain of the basketball team, student council vice president. It made so many girls jealous. Which I loved. My parents thought he was great. His parents were very well-off. So my mom and dad thought I was suddenly so grown-up. Which I also loved. But Mark wasn’t very nice to me when we were alone. He’d tell me I was stupid. That I wasn’t pretty. That I was immature. Especially if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Mom…” I said, again not really knowing what else to say. Then I did. “Did he…?”

“Oh … not … that. No. He didn’t force me … physically. But we had sex on our third date. He had made me feel that if I didn’t, I would be worthless without him. It was painful and I cried when I got home that night. He never cared how I felt. Never cared about if it was pleasurable for me. We must have had sex a hundred times my freshman year, and I hated it every time. I loved him. I told myself I did. A girl has to love the boy she’s having sex with or she’ll hate herself. Mark dumped me before he went to college. I cried, but even then I don’t think I was sad about being dumped. Just sad about everything. After Mark, I’d either date boys who were so boring and weak I could control them or I’d date ‘cool’ boys who treated me like garbage. I was dating college boys by the time I was sixteen and thirty-year-olds by the time I was in college. But it didn’t matter how old they were, they would either bore me or hurt me.”